


Expensive Tastes

by AnnieVH



Series: Rumple and the Spinsters [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2351573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meat pies are a luxury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expensive Tastes

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: im-not-a-what (tumblr) prompted “Rumple learns the art of baking meat pies”.
> 
> I'm still taking Rumpel and the Spinsters prompts, so whoever wants to leave or PM me one, feel free to do so.

“How do you do it?”

Aunt Fauna looked up from the dough she was thrashing, without stopping. Raised her eyebrows to ask for clarification.

Whenever Aunt Flora was in the room, she would often surpass her companion in endless litany. But as soon as she had no one other than Rumpelstiltskin for company, she'd retrieve into silence and only say a word if he squeezed it out of her.

During the first year he had lived there, Rumpel had wondered if maybe she didn't like him as much as Aunt Flora did. Aunt Flora wouldn't waste an opportunity to start a conversation. But he soon realized it wasn't that there was anything wrong with _him_ ; Aunt Fauna simply didn't care for chitchat with anybody. Aunt Flora was her only exception.

She was, however, a very good listener and would only open her mouth if she was absolutely certain that what she had to say would be a valuable contribution. Sitting in silence at the wheel while she worked in the kitchen was far from awkward.

He explained, “Baking meat pies.”

Fauna smirked. “Skillfully.”

He smiled back. “I'm not questioning it.”

“You _can't_ question it.”

Rumpelstiltskin laughed.

Aunt Fauna concentrated back on her work, but answered, “You know my recipe.”

“I do.”

“You've even tried it a few times.”

He hissed. “Not with the same results.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself. It was very... eatable.”

“I'm getting better at it,” he said, feigning offense.

“And one day, you'll become half the baker I am.”

“ _Half_?”

“Don't be offended. Aunt Flora's been trying my recipes for thirty years and she's barely a tenth.” She leaned forward. “But lets not tell her I said that.”

Rumpel raised his hands to show she didn't have to say another word about it. “I don't want her trying to prove you wrong by burning our meals for a week, Auntie. My lips are sealed.”

Aunt Fauna cackled for a good minute.

When the noise died, Rumpel said, “That was not what I was asking, though.”

She raised her eyebrows again.

“How can we afford meat pies?”

Aunt Fauna's face went from pleasant to mortified in a second.

He shrugged. “Meat is expensive. And I know how much money we make-”

“I am very good with money,” she said, quickly. Then went back to working the dough on the counter with her angry fists.

After a moment, she still had not said another word and he frowned. “Did I upset you, Auntie?”

She tried to sound natural and the effort showed in her voice. “No, Rumpel. Why would you say that?”

“You're punching that like it did something to you.”

She took a moment to reply. “I'm just making sure it's good for the oven.”

Rumpel watched her for a few more moments, expecting her to cave under the awkward silence that had descended between them. When she didn't, he insisted, “Auntie, I was not trying to upset you.”

She said, “You didn't upset me.” But didn't look him in the eye.

“I just want to know how do we manage to afford meat.”

“Why?” she snapped back. “Aren't we happy?”

“Auntie-”

“We have a good life. You want for nothing. Why does it matter how we can afford meat?”

“Because if you're taking extra jobs on the side and not telling me, I think I should know. It was fine when I was a little boy, but I'm not a child anymore. I don't have to play outside or study or do whatever it was that you wanted me to do to have a 'normal childhood', whatever the hell that means. I can help you now. There is absolutely no need for the two of you to work your fingers to the bone while I- why are you laughing?”

Aunt Fauna coughed to cover. “I'm not laughing.”

“Yes you are. Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, I just... just realized I have the best son in all the Frontlands.”

With that, she left her cooking aside and went to give him a hug, covering his clothes with flower. Rumpelstiltskin took a moment to react. Aunt Fauna wasn't given to outbursts of affection, and she sure as hell didn't spontaneously hug – she was a fierce believer in giving people a five second notice so they could run the other way, and expected the same kindness in return. With the exception of Aunt Flora.

 

* * *

 

When Flora came back, Fauna didn't waste time with greetings.

“We need to give Rumpel more work.”

Flora laughed. “I am not giving that boy any more work than he already has. The poor thing works himself to the bone. He should go out more. Meet new people. Make some friends. Why would you want him to spend any more time in front of that spinning wheel?”

“He just realized meat is expensive and the math doesn't match.”

Flora's breath got caught in her throat.

“It's fine,” Fauna said, calming her down. “He thinks we're keeping work from him. I sent them to look after the sheep.”

Flora sighed with relief. “Right.”

“We do bake too many meat pies.”

The other woman scoffed. “We?”

“Fine. _Mea culpa._ I bake too many meat pies. But I didn't hear you complaining when you were eating them.”

“When did he get so smart?”

Fauna shrugged. “He's sixteen. Honestly, if he didn't question our expensive tastes any sooner, I'd be worried.”

Coming closer, Flora dropped her tone to a whisper. “You don't think he's _seen us_. Do you?”

“No,” Fauna shook her head. “If he did, he'd tell us. And you know he's rubish at keeping secrets from us.”

“Yes.” Flora sighed. “Well, we'll just have to hold back for a while. And give him some extra work.”

“ _Find_ him some extra work, you mean,” Fauna said, bitterly. “Times are hard. Who does he think is paying us on the side anyway? The _King_? People can barely afford milk, let alone yarn.”

Her rambling continued until Fauna decided to go fetch their son, both agreeing that a sort of “serious conversation” about “having more responsibilities now that he was older” would be enough to sooth his worries and erase any suspicion. And they would, as Flora liked to say, “behave like everybody else” for a while.

However, when Flora started emptying her basket, she realized there was only a ridiculously small amount of meat among the vegetables and milk. She regarded it with sadness. Rumpel was right, the prices were getting out of hand. But disappointing meals were part of being a regular peasant, meat pies every other week was not something for people like them.

Although... they had worked extra hard that week. And he was such a good kid. And he liked those pies so much.

Fully aware that Fauna was going to have something to say about it later, but thinking it was worth the risk, Flora reached for the spindle on her wheel. She looked over her shoulder, just to make sure Rumpel hadn't come into the room while she wasn't looking, and held the spindle gracefully in her hand. In the blink of an eye, it wasn't a spindle anymore. It was something else. Something special, from a past life she had left behind. Something she wasn't suppose to have. There was a flick of a wrist and the small amount of meat doubled in size.

The spindle became a spindle again.

Flora smiled, satisfied with herself.

Still, as predicted, Fauna gave her one of her looks when she started working on the filling of her pie. “Didn't we agree on _something_ fifteen minutes ago, my dear?”

Flora feigned innocence. “What? Oh! Forgive me, dearest. I thought you meant _starting tomorrow_.”

 


End file.
